


Feral Adventures

by AlexTWDgf01



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feral Behavior, Feral Ford AU, Feral Ford Pines, Flashbacks, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character(s) Injury, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Canon, Post-Weirdmageddon, Purring, Sea Grunkles, Sea Monsters, Stan O' War II, Stangst, Trust, cat behavior, dog behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTWDgf01/pseuds/AlexTWDgf01
Summary: Slowly, the tentacles started to detangle themselves from the ship as the squid sunk back into the sea. The appendages were still flailing about with its high pitched shrieks, and unfortunately, Ford didn’t see the one swinging in his direction.“Ford!” Stan cried out as his brother was sent flying through the air.And right into one of the damaged side rails.
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 17
Kudos: 51





	1. Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, I’m back at writing! And I’m planning on making a bit of a series outta this. I got some ideas for a few chapters, but this is the only one I have written out. 
> 
> Oh, and please read the end notes!

Stanford was acting...off.

I mean, sure. Someone you haven’t know for forty years is going to have new personality traits and quirks about them. Like how Ford was no longer the defenseless nerd who needed protecting. Now, he could defend himself from being five times his size and strength. Or how his senses were more heightened from thirty years spent in other dimensions. You know, normal stuff.

But since being out at sea, Stan has noticed some peculiar behavior in his brother he’d never seen before. 

Firstly, anytime they entered a new place, he would prowl around-literally prowl-the vicinity. Shoulders lowered, steps light, eyes darting in every direction, the whole shabang. It was as if Ford was expecting something to jump out and attack him. Then again, being in a place where everyone’s out to get you could explain this odd behavior. (Stan understood that leeriness personally)

He also startles very easily. It’s not all the time, but there are occasions where if something drops on the floor or if Stan taps him on the shoulder, he literally bolts up, hackles raised and hair standing on end. But, this too could be explained from having lived a life on the run.

There are also times where he just disappears without a trace and reappear some time later. And they’re out at sea in a small trolley boat. Where could he possibly be?

With all that aside, there’s one behavior though that stands out above them all. And it’s a behavior that Stan hadn’t truly seen until today...

———————————————————————

“Stan, you can’t fight a gargantuan squid with your bare hands! It could kill you!”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me, Sixer!”

Both brothers were currently in the middle of a torrential downpour with a giant squid trying to sink their boat. It had already damaged some of the side railing and broke their sail. Ford pulled Stan to the side to discuss a plan of attack, but the youngest had stubbornly decided to go in, fists raised.

Stan bolted from their hiding spot, rounding up to swing at the beast’s eye. In one swift movement, his fist hit its target, causing the squid to squeal in anger.

He dodged under its slimy tentacles as it attempted to strike back. Stan struck it two more times with is powerful left hook before it managed to grab him. It lifted the older man up high above the boat, shaking him this way and that.

“Put me down, ya one eyed bastard! I ain’t a maraca!” Stan yelled, trying to pry its appendage from his torso.

“Stan!” Ford cried out, shooting the creature with his blaster. “I told you to wait, you knucklehead!”

“Now’s not the time, nerd! We need ta kill this overgrown piece a sushi before it sinks us!” Stan griped, grunting as he felt its tentacle tighten around his chest. “Or squeezes me ta death!”

“Hold on!” 

Ford ducked under one of the squid’s other tentacles before aiming at the one trapping his twin and shot several rounds off before it released him. He rushed over to Stan as he fell back onto the deck, helping him back up onto his feet.

“Now, what do we do?” Stan asked.

“If we could take out its sight, it’ll retreat back underwater! Unfortunately, my blaster isn’t powerful enough to damage its retina! We’ll have use the harpoon gun! I need you to keep him distracted while I go retrieve it!” Ford explained over the loud storm and angry shrieks of their six armed friend over there.

“Distracting is what I do best.” Stan said, cracking his knuckles before sliding on his knuckle dusters.

As Ford rushed back towards the captain’s quarters, Stan turned his attention back towards the monstrosity hanging onto the side of the boat.

“Hey ugly! You want some of this?!” 

The creature growled, swinging two of its tentacles at Stan. He easily ducked under the blows, returning with some of his own. Left hook, right hook, left hook. Each time he made contact, the squid squealed in rage. This went on for several minutes before Ford returned, armed with the harpoon gun. 

“Stanley, DUCK!” 

Stan doled out one more dazing punch before hitting slick the deck. Ford took aim, held his breath, and fired.

There was a whooshing noise before a sickening squelch sounded as the storm quieted down around them. Then, a bloodcurdling shriek erupted, causing both brothers to cover their ears from the intensity. 

Slowly, the tentacles started to detangle themselves from the ship as the squid sunk back into the sea. The appendages were still flailing about with its high pitched shrieks, and unfortunately, Ford didn’t see the one swinging in his direction.

“Ford!” Stan cried out as his brother was sent flying through the air.

And right into one of the damaged side rails.

Ford screamed when one of the broken metal rails pierced through his right side. Stan froze up in shock, unable to believe what had just happened. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move until his brother cried out again after pulling himself off the rail and falling to his knees.

Scrambling back up to his feet, Stan rushed over to his twin.

“STANFORD!” he yelled, crouching close, but too afraid to touch him. “Oh God, i-it’s gonna be okay! Let me see.”

As he went to grasp the other’s shoulder, Ford jerked his head up at breakneck speed before stumbling back away from him. Stan felt his worry spike at the action. 

“Easy, Ford. D-don’t hurt yourself worse!” Stan stood, going to follow him. 

Ford scrambled all the way back until he was stopped by the wall of the ship’s cabin. He grasped protectively at his profusely bleeding side, breath coming out shallow and fast, eyes wide as they darted around before landing on Stan again. Why was he acting like this? Was the injury even worse that the younger had thought?

“Come on, Sixer. I just wanna help. Let me see.” 

Stan reached forward again after reproaching his brother, hoping he could take him inside and patch up that wound before he bled to death. But as he did, he noticed how Ford tensed up, how deathly still he went. He was about to ask what was wrong when the eldest lunged.

The breath was knocked from Stan’s lungs as he was slammed into the deck, ears ringing and head throbbing. He grimaced and groaned in pain before the feeling of two six fingered hands wrapped around his throat caused him to choke on a short gasp. 

Ford was on top of him, squeezing his throat with the strength of a boa constrictor. His eyes were unfocused, teeth bared in an animalistic growl. He was so terrifying, so ruthless, so feral. 

Stan was dumbfounded by his brother attacking him-attacking him-but he couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. He had to fight back, like it or not. As his lungs burned for air and he felt his eyes begin to bulge, he drew back his fist and punch Ford square in the jaw.

The elder grunted, tumbling off the younger as he clutched his chin. Stan gasped for air, resting a hand against his chest as he started in on an uncontrollable coughing fit.

Upon regaining some control of his breathing, Stan turned his attention back to the other. Ford was crouched a few feet away, growling and glaring him down as he looked ready to attack once more. Gulping roughly, the youngest opened his mouth to speak.

“F-Ford?” he croaked, dragging himself back an inch.

Ford blinked in confusion, growl cutting off in his throat. He seemed to be studying Stan for a long moment before recognition overtook his features and his eyes grew wide in terror.

“S...Stanley? Y-you-I...oh no.” Ford gasped, body trembling as he started mumbling something about flashbacks under his shaking breath.

“Ford, I don’t understand what...what just happened, but you’re hurt.” Stan said, stumbling to his feet. “We need to stop the bleeding and get you to a hospital. Just let me-“

“DON’T! D-don’t get any cl-closer! S-stay back! Please...” Ford begged, cowering with his back pressed flush against the wall behind him. “I don’t wan-nna hurt you...n-not again.”

“Ford, I can’t just let you bleed out. We gotta-“ 

As Stan took a tentative step towards his brother, hands placating, Ford jumped up and bolted into the cabin, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

“Stanford, wait!” Stan exclaimed, rushing after the elder. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs to the lower quarters, he saw the door to their shared bedroom slam shut. He skid to a stop in front of it, twisting the knob only to fine out it had been locked.

“Stanford, open the door!” Stan yelled, roughly jiggling the door knob.

“Go away!” came Ford’s muffled voice.

“You know I can’t do that, Ford. You need medical attention. Your liver could be punctured or something!” 

“I almost killed you! I might hurt you again.”

“I’m not concerned with that right now. I’m worried about you. Please, just open the door.” Stan pleaded, pounding his fist on the door.

“I can’t...not again. Just le-leave...” 

Stan’s heart started racing impossibly faster when Ford’s voice seemed to grow quieter, before going completely silent. 

“Sixer?”

No answer.

“Ford, answer me.”

Nothing.

“Damn it, Stanford! Open the door!”

When he still received no answer, he knew something wasn’t right. Frantically, he started shoving his shoulder into the door, trying to break it off its hinges. It only took a few times before a loud crack echoed through the hall and the door gave out.

Eyes scanning the room, Stan expected to immediately spot his brother either on the bed or hunched down in a corner. But he wasn’t anywhere in site! The porthole window didn’t open, so he couldn’t have possibly escaped their room. He had to be in here somewhere.

Then, his eyes caught on a heavy blood trail leading to the bed. With bated breath, Stan squatted beside it and glanced underneath.

There was Ford, but his eyes were closed and he was lying in a huge puddle of blood.

“Oh God.” Stan gasped, grabbing Ford and pulling him out from under the bed. “Nononono, please nono. Don’t do this to me.”

He pressed his good ear against Ford’s chest to make sure he was still alive, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when felt him breathing and heard his heartbeat. 

“We’re not outta the woods yet.” Stan murmured, hefting Ford into his arms.

Ford was still loosing blood, fast. He needed to staunch it before he lost anymore and rush him to the hospital. Hopefully, he won’t be too late.

Stan carried Ford back upstairs and laid him down on the sofa, going to retrieve some towels and the med kit. Laying it on the floor, the youngest flung the kit quickly open and dig through its contents before pulling out what he’d been looking for.

It was some weird medical glue gun Ford had acquired in another dimension used to temporarily seal up critical wounds. As convenient as it was, Stan wished they’d never had to use it.

Before it could be of any use though, he needed to stem the blood flow. So using the towels he’d snagged, Stan pressed one against the wound, causing Ford to groan in pain.

“I know, bud. I’m gonna fix this. I promise.” Stan reassured, pressing another towel to the other side of the wound.

It takes the better half of ten minutes and four towels before the bleeding slows enough for Stan to seal up the wounds. An additional fifteen before they made it to the closest port. Though thankfully, he’d thought to call an ambulance ahead of time. So when the boat was docked, paramedics were readily waiting for them.

Lifted onto a stretcher and loaded into the back of an ambulance, they were off to the hospital. Paramedics worked around Stan, one hooking his brother up to a respirator and heart monitor as the other assessed his condition and asked the younger what happened.

“T-the storm we hit was rough. Some of our boat was damaged, part of the railing too. Wh-while we were out tryin’ ‘a repair it, a wave hit a-and Ford stumbles back into it and...I patched him up best I could.” Stan stuttered from the cold and adrenaline in a half truth, being sure to leave out the giant squid.

“How long has it been since the injury?” the female paramedic asked as she pulled back Ford’s soaked, tattered sweater to examine the wound. (Which had reopened at some point. So much for the glue gun)

“Thirty-five, forty minutes maybe?” Stan offered, slipping Ford’s hand into his.

“Blood pressure’s low. He’s probably lost over thirty percent of his blood volume. He’ll need a transfusion soon. Do you know his blood type, Mr. Pines?” the male paramedic asked.

“A positive. You can take some from me. We’re the same.” 

“Do you mind if we do this now? The hospital is still seven minutes away and I’m afraid th-“

“Do it. How much ever you need to keep him alive, take it.”

So the male paramedic set to work, transfusing blood from Stan to Ford while the lady kept an eye on his vitals and pressure on his wound. When they finally arrived at the hospital, the elder was rushed into the ER, leaving his twin alone in the empty waiting room.

A nurse came in at some point to examine Stan after one of the paramedics mentioned taking some of his blood and noticing bruising around his throat. He explained that Ford had some sort of flashback during the accident and attacked him, since he had no other way to explain the six fingered hand bruises.

After deeming him well and wrapping him in an emergency thermal blanket, the nurse disappeared with his soaked coat, leaving Stan to his thoughts. (She offered to give him a change of clothes too, but he declined) And as the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off, he finally realized that Ford could die. Ford could die.

His eyes screwed shut at the impending thought, trying to ignore the doubtful voice in his head. 

He wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t. It’s Ford, for crying out loud! He’s the tuffest guy he knew. If anyone could make it, he could. 

He lost a lot of blood. Other people have died from less.

Yeah, other people! But Ford’s not like other people! He’s strong, he survived the multiverse, he’s fought monsters more powerful than him, he’s-

Human. He’s not invincible or immoral. He could die just as easy-

He’s in surgery! They’re sewing him up! They're gonna save him!

And do you realize just how many people have died in surgery? He may be too far gone for them to fix him.

You’re wrong!

...and if I’m not?

Stan buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking, tears slipping down his face as he tried not to sob. Ford was going to make it. He had to make it. If he didn’t...he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

After Weirdmageddon, they were supposed to go sailing. Find treasure, meet hot babes, be adventurers! Above all, it was supposed to be him and Ford forever, together. How were they going to stick together if Ford went somewhere he couldn’t follow?

He could, but...what would that mean for the kids? Losing one uncle would be bad enough, but both? Stan couldn’t put them through that. Even if his life went back to being miserable without Ford.

“Ford, please...please fight. Don’t give up.” Stan begged, breath shuddering out past his lips. “I know you’re probably scared and in pain and tired...but please don’t go where I can’t follow you. I need you to live. Your family needs you to fight.”

“Please, do it for me...do it for Mabel and Dipper because they need you...I need you, Stanford. So, please don’t...” Stan’s plea tapered off as he lost control of his voice, now sobbing uncontrollably.

This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be happening! It can’t end like this! Not after everything they’ve been through, has hard as Stan fought to bring him back from the portal. Ford couldn’t just die like this. He doesn’t deserve it.

Stan sat in that waiting room for what felt like an eternity, balling his eyes out and fearing the worst when finally-finally a doctor dressed in scrubs stepped out from behind the ER doors and approached him.

“I am Dr. Strange. You must be Stanford Pines’ brother, correct?” the doctor asked.

“H-how is he?!” Stan asked impatiently, bolting up from his seat. “Is he alright? Is he...?”

“Your brother’s fine, Mr. Pines. It was touch and go there for a while and he required another blood transfusion, but he’ll pull through.” Dr. Strange reassured.

Relief washed over Stan in a wave, nearly causing him to collapse back in his chair. A sob passed his lips that he quickly covered with his hand, taking in a shaky breath. The doctor rested a supportive hand on his shoulder, giving him time to collect himself.

“Thank you...Thank you.” Stan said gratefully, shaking the doctor’s hand. “I-I...can I see him?”

“Yes. If you’ll follow me.” Dr. Strange nodded, leading the way to Stanford’s room while explaining his condition. “Along with the wound and excessive blood loss, we had to remove his appendix since it was ruptured, but thankfully no major organs were damaged. So, his recovery shouldn’t take too long. We estimate that he’ll be cleared to leave within two to three weeks.”

Stan nodded along, his thoughts narrowed in on seeing his brother. He needed more than verbal reassurance of him being okay. He needed to see him.

Approaching his brother’s room, Dr. Strange twisted the door knob and lightly pushed it open. He stepped aside to allow Stan access into the room. When his eyes caught site of Ford, his heart broke.

There lay Ford on a hospital bed. His skin was pale, hair in disarray, hooked up to monitors, breathing tubes in his nose, IVs stuck in his right arm. He looked horrible. But alive.

Stan stumbled to the other side of the bed, tossing the thermal blanket carelessly from his shoulders before grasping his brother’s hand in one of his, the other pushing Ford’s bangs from his forehead.

“A nurse will be by to check in every so often. When he wakes up, please press the call button on the side of the bed.” 

“Okay. Thanks, doc.”

With a nod, the doctor left, closing the door behind him.

“Hey bud.” Stan whispered, sniffling slightly. “Doctor said you’ll be all good in a few weeks. See? I told ya you’d be alright.”

Stan pulled up the chair behind him with his foot, taking a seat by his twin. He tightened his left hand around Ford’s six fingered one while his right ran through the other’s greasy hair, gently detangling it.

“You’re gonna be fine.”


	2. Don’t Blame Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As everything seemed to click back into place, Ford’s eyes widened in horror before he yanked his hand back. The younger gave him a hurt look, about to ask what was wrong.
> 
> “I attacked you...” Ford gasped, eyeing the bandages around the other’s neck wirily. “I-I tried to kill you! I...I hurt you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is close to what you wanted, MysteriousMystery!

A nurse came in a few times within the couple hour. A few to check Ford’s vitals, and once to return Stan’s coat, warm and dry. By now, his clothes had mostly dried, excluding his pants which he’d stripped and hung it across the back of his chair.(hey, not the first time he’s worn boxers in public) Nevertheless, he had draped the fur coat over his lap so they weren’t as bare.

It’s been two hours since Ford had come out of surgery and he’d yet to wake up. He’d twitch every so often and his eyes would flutter, but he never stirred. 

Stan understood that he needed his rest after what all he went through. It didn’t stop the worry bubbling up in his chest. But he was being patient, busying himself with tracing scars over his twin’s arm as he thought over the day’s events.

His mind wandered back to right after Ford got hurt, how he’d reacted to Stan trying to help him. How the eldest had cowered away from him, how his eyes darted wildly around, how he’d growled, how he’d attacked. It was the first time he’d ever seen him act like that. 

Ford’s actions had been unexpected, other worldly. He’d acted like a wild animal that was cornered and injured, striking out at anything it deemed a threat.

He remembered Ford had been whispering wildly to himself about having a flashback. Could flashbacks cause it? Stan remembers from his time in the loony bin a few veterans who’d had flashbacks so bad, they had attacked people during them. What’d the nurses say that caused that? PTSD? Yeah, that’s it.

Most who’d gone through something traumatic tended to have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. (Something those joke doctors told Stan he had. Ha! Yeah, right.) And some of them tended to have pretty horrific flashbacks. 

It wouldn’t be surprising if Ford had ptsd, considering lord knows what horrors he faced in that portal for thirty fucking years. Plus, what all else the demonic prick put him through. 

He’d have to discuss it with Ford at some point after he got better.

Speaking of which, the elder twin now seemed to be coming to, eyes slowly squinting open against the bright lights in the room. Stan immediately straightened up, re-encasing Ford’s hand in his. 

Ford’s eyes flickered across the room in confusion, widening when he didn’t recognize his surroundings. His breathing picked up slightly to as he tried to move, tried to get up.

“Stanford.” Stan called out calmly, squeezing his brother’s hand until his eyes focused on him. “Easy, bud. Everything’s alright.”

“Stanley? W-where are we?” Ford asked, confusion evident on his face.

“We’re in a hospital. You got hurt. Do you remember?”

“I-uh...w-we were fighting the Gargantuan Squid...I sh-shot it with the harpoon and it went back into the water. Then, one of its tentacles hint me and...”

As everything seemed to click back into place, Ford’s eyes widened in horror before he yanked his hand back. The younger gave him a hurt look, about to ask what was wrong.

“I attacked you...” Ford gasped, eyeing the bandages around the other’s neck wirily. “I-I tried to kill you! I...I hurt you.” 

“I’m alright. Don’t worry about it.” Stan reassured.

“Don’t worry about it?” Ford repeated incredulously.

“You must have been having a flashback. You didn’t realize what was going on. It’s okay.” Stan tried to reason.

“It’s not okay, Lee! Th-there’s nothing to excuse what I did!” Ford cried out, voice wobbling. “I could have killed you! Don’t you get that?!”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I coul-“

“But you didn’t, Sixer.”

Ford gazed at his brother in disbelief with tear filled eyes and a wobbling lip. Stan reached forward, trying to comfort him in some way, but the six fingered twin leant away from the touch.

“D-don’t!...just, sta-ay back! You can’t t-trust me.” 

“What do you mean? Of course I can.”

“No, you can’t! Not after today! I hurt you! I scared you! You can’t! You can’t youcan’tyoucan’tyoucan’t-“

“Ford, slow down.” Stan spoke calmly, holding his hands up placatingly. “I already told you, I’m okay. A nurse looked at it and said it wasn’t anything to worry about. And I won’t lie, you did freak me out a bit.”

“I’m sorry!”

“But-“ Stan continued, dismissing his brother’s apology. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared because I didn’t understand what was going on. I heard you mumbling about flashbacks after you came back to your senses. It was something you couldn’t control. It just happened. You were seeing things, you were scared and in pain and I don’t blame you for lashing out at me.”

“I sh-shouldn’t have.” Ford whimpered.

“Flashbacks aren’t something you can cont-“

“It wasn’t just a flashback!”

Stan flinched in shock at his brother’s outburst and looked confused at his words. “Huh?”

“I-I...I don’t-it’s stupid, I don’t know! It happened in t-the portal, it’s what tu-turned me into a monster!” Ford yelled, dogging his nails in his hair as his heart monitor started to speed up.

“Stop.” Stan said sternly, feeling his hands ball up into fists where they rested on the bed. “You’re not a monster.”

“I am! Can’t you see?! I-I attacked you, like some st-stupid animal!”

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Sixer. It was an accident.”

“I still did it! I lost m-my grip and I nearly killed you! And when I finally realized...o-oh God, the terror on your face...”

“Ford...”

“H-how can you stand to be near me?!” 

Stan grasped his brother’s shoulders, tightening his grip slightly when Ford tried to pull away.

“Look at me.” Stan ordered, voice soft but stern.

Ford’s eyes darted back and forth from the walls, the floor, and the space between them before eventually gazing back into his brother’s eyes.

“I may not know what all has happened to you during our time apart or how it’s truly affected you...” Stan licked his chapped lips before continuing. “But you’re my brother. I know you. You wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. And one little incident isn’t going to change my trust in you, Stanford.”

The eldest brother scanned his features as he spoke, looking for any sign of a lie, a sign a fear directed towards him. But there was none. Stan’s words were genuine and heartfelt. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t afraid. He truly loved and trusted Ford.

And Ford broke.

The tears he’d been fighting back cascaded down his face and his lips parted as sobs wracked their way from his throat. Ford bowed his head, not wanting his brother to see him in such a weak state. Stan wasn’t having any of that though.

Standing from his chair, Stan slipped under the covers and into the small hospital bed beside his brother, pulling him close to rest against his chest. Ford sobbed all the harder, trying weakly to push himself, saying he didn’t deserve the other’s comfort.

Stan shushed him, telling him he did. How he deserved to be held and comforted. How he deserved to be loved and cared for. How he deserved it all after the pain he’d went through.

Ford finally gave in, slumping against his brother with his face pressed against his chest. Stan held him close as he let out his sorrows, arms wrapped protectively around the elder’s fragile frame. Nose buried in his mussed hair, whispering comforting words and assurances against his scalp.

“It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Pitiful animal noises escaped the six fingered twin’s mouth as his tears continued to pour out, soaking Stan’s shirt. But he didn’t mind. Ford could cry and snot all over him for all he cared. He just wanted his brother to get it all out so he could get to feeling better.

He felt Ford shift, trying to return the hug, but having a hard time getting his IV tethered arm around him. So Stan carefully guided it to rest over the side of his waist before returning his hand to rub soothing circles across his twin’s back as he continued to cry and whimper.

The door opened as a nurse peeked her head in, causing the younger to glance up at her in slight surprise. At seeing the scene and the pleading look for her to leave Stan gave her, she left, quietly closing the door back.

Thank the woman.

As Ford slowly began to calm down, his sobs replaced by hiccups and occasional whines, shoulders now barely quivering, he withdrew his face from its squished placement against the younger’s chest, sniffing. Stan leaned back slightly, using his right hand to tilt his twin’s chin up, looking him in the eyes.

“Hey.” Stan said with a light smile as he brought his hands up to wipe away Ford’s tears. “We’ll figure everything out. Like we always do. K?”

Ford nods, eyes slipping shut with a content sigh, leaning into the touch. Stan smirked, resting their foreheads together for a few moments.

“But in the mean time, you need to rest.” 

Ford nuzzled the younger’s head before pulling back, resting his head against his shoulder. Stan situated himself more comfortably in the bed, laying flat on his back with his brother lying half against him, injured side propped up. 

Stan ran his fingers through the elder’s hair in a relaxing motion, humming a nameless tune to drown out the beeping of the heart monitor by the bed. Ford sighed, tucking his head closer to the other’s and resting his hand over Stan’s heart.

As Ford’s body became more relaxed and his breath soon evened out, Stan closed his eyes and followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s chapter two! 
> 
> I’ll probably be working on an art piece I was doing for Christmas tomorrow. So, I may not start working on chapter 3 until Saturday.


	3. The Thunder Rolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he stirred the stew, the storm started to pick up. The wind blew steady, causing the boat to sway more than normal. A bolt of lightning cracked across the skyline, a muffled roll of thunder following soon after. Then more lightning and the thunder roared louder, the bloat vibrating from the force.
> 
> A thud sounded down below. Though, it wasn’t from the storm brewing outside. It was lighter. Not like a book falling to the floor. More like a body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter seems kinda rushed. I just had trouble coming up with more for it. If anyone has some ideas for this fic, I’m open to it. I’ve got a few in mind, but one or two of them will probably be another part to the series.
> 
> Also, I’m thinking of changing the name of this fic from Feral Adventures to Feral Behavior. (Since most of these chapters probably won’t be adventure based)

Apparently, during his time in the portal, Ford had developed some rather feral behavior. He’d explained to Stan that due to constantly being on the run from people trying to kill him, he had little to no socialization with people. (Aliens, creatures, etc.) No human contact. 

While he was there, he’d come to interpret touch with pain, explaining his decreased social ability with others. He’d been able to hide his behavior behind closed doors after returning from the portal. (Especially since he’d holed himself up in the basement most of the time) But ever since the events of Weirdmageddon, ever since what Bill had done to him during that time, it seemed to become harder for Ford to disguise it.

That’s why he has become noticeably unsure and untrusting of me places and people. Why he prowled around new places for threats. Why he jumped at unexpected noises and touch. 

It made Stan sad for his brother. Angry at the dead triangular bastard for tricking Ford into building the portal and torturing him. Pissed with himself for shoving him into that hell. But the eldest begged him to stop blame himself for an accident. And he promised he’d try.

Stan suggested the other to be evaluated for PTSD. That he’d be prescribed medication that could potentially help with flashbacks and potentially help calm some of his feral behavior. Ford contemplated the idea, but dismissed it all together because he didn’t want to be put on any of their brain numbing medications.

It was two weeks later that Ford was finally discharged from the hospital. Dr. Strange gave him some pain medication to take home for his injury and instructed him not to do any strenuous activities or heavy lifting for the next three weeks until his side was completely healed. Plus, gave them recommendations for calming panic attacks in case he had any more. The brothers nodded along in understanding before returning to the Stan O’ War ll.

That had only been a week ago and Stan was now glaring at his brother who was currently on deck, trying to lift on a barrel of bait for they’d been using to draw in some of the paranormal ocean life. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Stan questioned, crossing his arms.

The six fingered twin’s shoulders tensed as he stood, giving the younger a sheepish look.

“I-I was, um...just helping to move things inside before it rains again.” Ford explained, twiddling his thumbs together nervously.

“You heard the doc. No vigorous activity for three weeks. Ya still got two left.” Stan said.

“I see your vocabulary has improved.” Ford commented with a playful smirk.

“Don’t change the subject.” Stan warned bemusedly. “Get yer ass back in bed before toss ya overboard.”

Sighing sullenly, the elder brother turned and headed back into the cabin. Waiting until he no longer heard his footsteps, Stan finished putting away the bait barrels in the storage room and checking the ties on the sail. Thankfully, he was able to get all this done before it started pouring rain.

Stan dashed inside before he could get soaked, pulling off his beanie and jacket, hanging them on the coat rack. He then shucked of his boots and padded over to the stove to start cooking dinner. The younger decided on fish stew

As he stirred the stew, the storm started to pick up. The wind blew steady, causing the boat to sway more than normal. A bolt of lightning cracked across the skyline, a muffled roll of thunder following soon after. Then more lightning and the thunder roared louder, the bloat vibrating from the force.

A thud sounded down below. Though, it wasn’t from the storm brewing outside. It was lighter. Not like a book falling to the floor. More like a body.

Concerned Ford might have fallen, the con man turned off the eye of the stove and scurried downstairs. He strided quickly down the hall to the bedroom and went to peer inside.

“Ford? You alright in th-?” Stan’s voice cut off when he found the room appeared empty.

Unbiddenly, his heart sped up slightly. But he ignored it, knowing his twin was still in there. Slowly, he walked over to the side of the bed and bent down to look under it-

Lo and behold, there was Ford, lying on the (now bloodstain free) floor, eyeing the younger nervously.

His shoulders were drawn up to cover his ears, eyes wide, breathing shallow, body shaking uncontrollably. He was scared.

“Hey, Ford. What are ya doin’ under there? What’s wrong?” Stan questioned softly.

Ford continued to stare back at him.

“Poindex?” 

The elder’s eyes darted to the floor, mouth parting open as if readying to speak. Only for lightning to flash outside and thunder to shake the boat. Ford’s mouth snapped shut, covering his ears, eyes closed tight, body quivering more violently, breathing becoming more erratic. And in that moment, the realization on what was going on struck Stan. 

The lightning was causing Ford to have a panic attack.

Even before knowing about the other’s feral ness and panic attacks, Stan knew what happened during Weirdmageddon when his brother was being held in the Fearamid. He knew Bill had tortured him. He didn’t find out how until he caught Ford changing bloody bandages around neck and wrists.

Ford then explained that he’d been electrocuted for that near week and that Bill had went overboard a few times. (In other words, killed him) And since then, Stan has noticed the way he would glare at anything that crudely bright shade of yellow or jump when lightning would strike. But it hadn’t ever gotten to this point before. He needed to get him to calm down. Before he passed out.

“Ford? Can you hear me?” 

His brother gasped for a few moments before tensely nodding.

“Alright. Do you think you can come out of there? So I can help you calm your breathing?”

Ford shook his head feverently, curling more into himself.

“Okay. Um...can you take my hand?” Stan asked, sticking his right arm hesitantly under the bed.

The six fingered man instantly took hold of the offered hand, squeezing it tightly in his grasp. Stan squeezed back, rubbing his thumb over the back of Ford’s hand as he laid flat on the floor.

“Good. Now, can you look at me?”

Ford’s eyes opened for a moment, darting around before landing on Stan. He gave his hand another squeeze.

“That’s good. You’re doing great, buddy. Alright, let’s take some deep breaths. In four, hold three, out seven.” Stan said, repeating Dr. Strange’s instructions.

Stan drew in a breath, signaling for the other to do the same. Ford followed shakily along.

The blue light from another bolt lit up the room.

“Ah shit.” Stan swore under his breath, grasping Ford’s other hand before he could pull away and curl in on himself. “Ford, it’s okay. It’s just a storm. It’s not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

“N-no! C-c-can’t~BILL!” Ford cried.

“He’s dead, Ford. You erased him and I punched him. He can’t hurt you no more.” Stan reassured, squeezing his twin’s hands.

“Nonononono...” Ford muttered, shaking his head.

“Stanford.” Stan said, giving his hands a slight tug to gain his attention. “I promise he’s gone and he’s never coming back. If he did, I’d kill the sonovabitch again. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near you. Trust me.”

The elder’s gaze lifted to Stan’s, scanning his eyes for a second before dragging himself out from under the bed. The con man sat back to allow Ford the space to move, giving him an encouraging smile. It disappeared for a moment when he gasped as Ford threw himself at him.

His brother’s arms snakes around his back, face buried in his shoulder as he continued to shake and hyperventilate. Stan wrapped his arms around Ford’s shoulders in return, massaging his scalp and back.

“It’s alright. Just breathe with me. In...and out. In...and out.” he instructed.

Ford followed along best he could, occasionally being set back by a flash of lightning to which the younger would tighten his hold to calm him before continuing. It took a good thirty minutes before he was breathing normal again, the tension draining from his body, leaving him wore out.

“Feelin’ any better?” Stan asked quietly.

“Mmhm.” Ford hummed into his shoulder.

“Good. That’s good.” Stan said, pulling away to catch his brother’s eye. “I have dinner ready. If you wanna eat...”

“Not right now. Thanks.” Ford said.

“K...do you wanna talk?” 

Ford’s gaze downcasted for a minute before nuzzling his face under Stan’s chin.

“I hate him.” Ford growled.

“I know. I hate him too.” Stan said, placing a hand on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If no ones noticed yet, all the chapter names I’m actually naming after songs. Hold On was by Chord Overstreet, Don’t Blame Yourself by Andrew Belle, and The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks.
> 
> (Again, if anyone has ideas for chapters to this fic, please run them by me. I need a little inspiration for some)


	4. Give Your Heart A Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan let go of the six fingered man's hands long enough to stack both of their pillows on top of each other to create an incline he could lean back on. He then reached out for Ford, who confusedly complied. 
> 
> It wasn't until Ford was pulled in against his twin's chest did he understand. Stan wanted to cuddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, more cuddles!
> 
> The song title of this chapter is Give Your Heart A Break by Demi Levoto, but Anthem Lights' cover fits better.

Stanford sat silently at his desk, sketching the young merman his niece had befriended and sent to them with a care package full of new sweaters, gloves, and other hand sewn items to fight the cold elements. He and his brother had chuckled to themselves at Mabel's abilities.

His twin was still forcing him to stay within the confines of the boat until Stan deemed him fit to be back at adventuring. Ford found his mother henning to be enduring. He was a grown man, he knew his limits! But he felt his heart swell with appreciation at the other's actions none the less. If he was being honest, after thirty years of having to take care of his wounds and being sure not to push himself too much, it was nice to have someone else care for him for a change.

It was just that Stan had so much on his plate without his help. Aside from worrying his head about the elder, he'd been taking up the hassle of tending to the boat on his own. And Ford could see it was taking it's toll on the conman even if he tried to hide it.

A gentle humming entered the space in the cabin, grounding Ford back to reality. His head swiveled in its direction, catching sight of Stanley as he stepped into their bedroom. The younger smiled, making his way over.

"Heya, nerd. How ya feelin'?" Stan asked, ruffling the elder's hair.

"As I said before, I'm fine, Stanley." Ford grumbled, batting away the offending hand half-heartedly. "The injury I sustained a month and a HALF ago has since fully healed."

"Yeah, yeah. Yer a big boy who take care of himself and yada yada yada. Another week of relaxation won't hurt you." Stan said.

"You said that last week! Dr. Strange said I could go back to normal activities in four weeks and it's been six!" Ford exclaimed incredulously.

Stan's shoulders had drawn up to his ears at his brother's agitation, looking away guiltily. Noticing this, Ford drew in a calming breath as he thought out his next words carefully to defuse the other's tension.

"I know you're just looking out for me, and I'm thankful. But I'm starting to get a little stir crazy from being cooped up in here, and between maintaining the boat, the cooking, and the cleaning? It's a lot just for the both of us to manage, let alone it all being put off on one person." Ford explained, intertwining the fingers of his six fingers hands with Stan's five. "And I know you're exhausted. As soon as your head hits the mattress, you're out like a light."

"I ain't exhausted." Stan grumbled, looking down at their laced fingers.

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise." Ford quipped, gaining a weary glare in return. "All I'm asking is that you stop worrying about me so much and worry about yourself for once. Let me start helping with the work around the boat again. And I promise I'll take it easy."

Stan gave his expression a once over, contemplating his brother's words.

"Tomorrow."

"Why not tod-"

"Tomorrow."

"...okay." Ford nodded, squeezing his twin's hands.

They stayed there for a few moments before Stan tugged his brother to his feet, causing the latter to make a sound of surprise in the back of his throat. Ford gave him a questioning look as he was tugged along over to their shared bed.

Stan let go of the six fingered man's hands long enough to stack both of their pillows on top of each other to create an incline he could lean back on. He then reached out for Ford, who confusedly complied. 

It wasn't until Ford was pulled in against his twin's chest did he understand. Stan wanted to cuddle.

While he had been the most affectionate of the two when they were younger, he hardly ever reached out for this close of affection since their reconciliation. He made out that it was because 'I'm a grown ass man, men don't cuddle other men!' But Ford knew it was because he was afraid of being too clingy and driving him away.

Though, since finding out Ford was this giant, affectionate cat, he'd finally come out of it and would ask for a hugs and the such when he needed it. And Ford was more than happy to oblige.

The feral twin nuzzled his head against Stan's chest, resting his hands atop the mattress on either side of his brother. The younger smiled, running his fingers through Ford's ashened curls while his other arm wrapped around his back.

They sat in comfortable silence, soaking in one another's warm presence. Stan's eyes slid shut, feeling himself begin to drift as his hand slowed its ministruations in the six fingered man's hair. He felt Ford shift around, but ignored it. 

Until a weird sound that vibrated against him caused his eyes to shoot open in surprise.

Stan glanced down towards the source of the noise only to discover his twin. While he was in his sleep daze, Ford had shifted to lying on his back, across the conman's lap. If the sight itself wasn't odd enough, the noise he was making just added to it.

It was this loud, vibrating purring that rose from somewhere deep in his chest, echoing up through his throat. It sounded like an overgrown cat.

A chuckle erupted from Stan's mouth. He couldn't contain himself. The sight of his brother rolled over purring like that was just too much, weird. Oh, how he loved him.

The purring cut out, Ford tensing up. He looked at the younger in confusion and, if he didn't know any better, hurt at his laughing. 

"Aw, don't gimme that look, bro. You just caught me off guard with...this." Stan motioned towards his brother. "You-you sound like a fuckin' cat."

Ford glanced away self-consciously as his cheeks reddened slightly, muttering something under his breath.

"What wazat?" 

"...it's h-how I show contentment, when I'm happy or safe...when I trust someone." Ford explained shyly, going to sit up.

"Hey, hey." Stan said, pulling Ford to where he was reclined back against his left arm (kinda like he was cradling him). "It's fine. Like I said, it just took me by surprise. No different than how I act on a full moon."

Leaning down, Stan pressed his forehead against the elder's, nuzzling him. After a moment, Ford nuzzled back and began purring again, causing the younger to smile.

Stan just couldn't believe how much his brother trusted him, both in his normal and feral state of mind. So much so that he was literally showing his belly and resting like putty in his arms. It was a weirdly satisfying feeling having someone trust him that much.

But at the same time, it was terrifying.

After all the shit Ford had been through, he shouldn't trust anyone, least not this openly. But he does. He trusts Stan. And as the elder tucked his face under his chin, he silently vowed to never take that trust for granted, to be worthy of that trust til his dying breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elisheva9467 came up with the idea of Ford showing his stomach in a way of conveying his trust towards Stan.

**Author's Note:**

> There was a hinted cameo in here somewhere. I know quite a few people probably caught it. But to the first person that is able to identify who it is, you will get to decide what should happen in the THIRD chapter. (I already have chapter 2 planned out)
> 
> Rules  
> -You MUST be signed into your account so that if I have a question, I can comment back to ask.  
> -Be sure to give at least a one paragraph description of it in the comments after your guess.
> 
> I will be back on to check in the morning so keep an eye out for if I reply to your comment!
> 
> (Side note: if I like another person’s idea that would fit in with the winners, I may ad their as well)
> 
> ————————————————————-
> 
> (Update)
> 
> The winner has been declare MysteriousMystery! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone else who has guessed/commented. Feel free to still drop an idea for this fic. I may use it later on!


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